


Baby, I'm Yours (And Hers)

by sixlettrsodapop



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixlettrsodapop/pseuds/sixlettrsodapop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy's happy. She has her band, her boyfriend, and a nagging crush at the back of her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I'm Yours (And Hers)

Peter is absolutely useless at being a frontman; he can sing and he’s cute, can enchant the crowd to stare at him and adore him, but absolutely useless at everything else. Including practice. Which is what they’re supposed to be doing right now, but Peter’s gotten distracted by Henry (not that he’d ever admit it) and Wendy drops her bass, letting it bounce against her stomach and chest. Felix looks up from where he’d been bent over Henry’s notebook at Wendy’s huff of annoyance, but drops his head back down with the barest hint of a smirk. Peter twitches and knocks his elbow into his mic-stand, nose wrinkling as he rubs his arm and Wendy rolls her eyes, taking his bass off and setting in its case. Practice is obviously over as far as Peter is concerned and there’s no point practicing without a singer. Peter makes a wounded noise when Wendy picks across the room with her case and sits next to Felix, shoulders relaxing as Felix’s arm wraps around her waist, fingers teasing at the strip of skin between her skirt and top.

“Practice over?” He murmurs, looking up from the book and Wendy nods towards where Peter is still hanging behind his stand with a vacant expression; Henry looks up when Felix looks at Peter and rolls his eyes, dragging a giggle from Wendy.

“He does realize you have a show tomorrow, right?” Henry asks as he’s packing his books into his bag, pausing for a moment to catch her eye and her shrug.

“He better.”

It’s later, when Wendy’s lying in bed that Henry’s words come back to her and she twists Felix’s shirt in her hands, butterflies starting up in her stomach. It’s not the first show they’ve played, far from it, but it’s the biggest one; there have been flyers up in the windows of the bookstore where Felix works for weeks and in Henry and Wendy’s coffee shop too. She just wants it to be great and it won’t if Peter is too busy staring at Henry to remember his words. Her phone buzzes from the night stand and she contemplates checking it; it’s late, after 2 for sure, and it’s probably not urgent enough to warrant a response until the morning, but she rolls over and reaches for it, fumbling around in the dark until she grabs it and rolls back over. From near her feet, Moony snuffles in his sleep and she buries her toes in his fur as she unlocks the phone, blinking against the light that floods her eyes.

_Peter will remember his words. Stop worrying and go to sleep_

Wendy feels her cheeks heat up and passes a hand over her eyes, biting her lip to stop her smile. They’ve been dating for months and he still makes her heart flutter and warmth spread from her head to her toes with a simple text and it would be embarrassing if anyone else saw, but she pushes her face into her pillow and takes a breath before she can text him back.

_I just want it to be great._

It takes Felix less than a minute to text back.

_You will be._

From the end of the bed, Moony lets out a long sigh and stretches out, rolling on top of her feet and she rereads Felix’s text a couple times until her heart stops pattering against her ribs. Felix is right; they’ll be great, Peter will remember his words, and afterwards, she and Felix will spend the night in his apartment, doing whatever they fancy.

~

Wendy wakes up to wide, brown eyes staring down at her and moans, turning her head into her pillow and causing Michael to tug on her hair; from the doorway, John laughs and Wendy resists flipping him off barely, stifling a yelp into her pillow as Michael yanks on her hair. She picks Michael up and sets him beside her, reaching on the floor to grab a pair of shorts and pulling them on under the blankets; Michael laughs as she wiggles around and she presses a kiss to the side of his head, rolling from the bed and picking him up. Wendy settles him on her hip and makes her way to the kitchen, picking around the toys strewn on the floor and hands Michael to her mother, digging through the cabinet until she manages to grab the box of Pop-Tarts from the back.

She ignores the look her mother gives her as she eats, thinking of the show and whether it’d be worth it to call another practice before it. It’s probably pointless; Peter won’t be human until right before show time and she doesn’t want to be the one to pull him away from Henry either. She stretches her arms above her head, bones creaking and popping and yawns; the butterflies are fluttering in her stomach again and she drums her fingers against the counter before walking from the kitchen, wincing when she hip-checks the table on her way out.

The door snaps shut behind her and she leans against it, taking a deep breath and concentrating on the tiny flutters in her stomach. If she acknowledges them and recognizes them for what they are, they’ll go away; Wendy counts her breaths and soon, the flutters calm and she sits on her bed. She knows herself, knows that she needs to distract herself until it’s time to leave so she won’t psyche herself out and looks around her room that’s scattered with clothes and books, debris in general.

She cleans until the room is spotless and she’s hot, flushed and then she moves on to herself. A scalding shower later, she’s pink and damp, lying on her bed in a towel and she does her nails, rubs lotion into her legs and arms until she’s soft and the bed smells like peppermint and she rolls onto her stomach, sighing. She untangles her headphones and slips the earbuds in, scrolling through the albums available on her phone until she reaches the one she wants and presses play.

Felix still won’t admit he made [the mix](http://8tracks.com/sixlettrsodapop/i-need-you-my-little-bird), but he flushes the lightest pink when she mentions it in front of Peter and Henry and it makes her giggle, the fact that her boy won’t admit to such a simple gesture when he’ll do so much more in front of them. The music is soothing and fills her bones with easy noise, songs about love and caring and need and always being there. In her stomach, the butterflies have died down and are resting and she sighs, closing her eyes and focusing on the music that says everything that Felix has said and more.

Wendy doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but when she wakes up, the sun is flooding her window and her phone is blinking at her. She rubs her eyes and checks her phone, a message from Henry about how Peter is spitting venom about some bully from school and she rolls her eyes, pushing her fingers through her hair. Felix will be here soon to get her and he panics confronted with her mother; she’s not even going to think about what happens when the nearly silent boy has to talk to her father.

~

“I don’t know what you were worrying about,” Felix says in Wendy’s ear and she smiles, tucking herself into the boy’s side; she takes his glass and sips, drink burning like fire on the way down and she shudders just enough to have Felix rub a hand down her arm.

Peter is currently wearing her flower crown, the pink roses balanced delicately on his head and she giggles; she feels gross, sweat drying on her skin and she’s sticky, but it’s nice to stay here, watching Peter charm the crowd after the show’s over and make them seem better than they are. Wendy steadfastly ignores the voice in her head that tells her they were great, record deal worthy even; it sounds suspiciously like Henry and she takes another drink from Felix’s cup, making a small, wounded noise when he takes it from her hand. His hand leaves her arm and threads through her curls and she stretches up to kiss him, smiling when he thumbs at her hip with his free hand.

“You better be careful, little bird.”

Wendy pulls away from Felix with a high-pitched sound that may have been a shriek and wrinkles her nose at Peter, the taller boy laughing and shoving the crown from his head onto Felix’s; Henry elbows Peter and the other boy rolls his eyes, but wraps a protective arm around Henry’s waist and starts steering him towards the door. Wendy hears Henry’s protest about having completely functioning legs, thanks and rolls her eyes; Felix is fidgeting with the flower crown, untangling the feathers and beads in his hair from the crown.

“Was Peter bored today?” She asks and Felix frowns at her; she reaches up and tugs on a feather and he smiles softly.

“When isn’t Peter bored?” Wendy nods; that’s a very good question.

Later, when Wendy’s lying in Felix’s bed and he’s pressed against her back, nose in her hair and breathing softly, she thinks about the show. It’d be loud and frantic, Peter taking ownership of the stage, crooning out his anger and frustration, his love with his eyes on Henry, leaning back into Wendy and pushing sweat-soaked hair into her face with a grin and dancing out of her reach when she went to get revenge. Felix and Henry had been pressed into the stage nearly, front row like always, and Wendy’s heart stops hammering into her chest. It had been good; after people had come up and asked about CDs and Wendy had flushed, proud, when Henry and Felix had left to get their stuff and Peter had pressed himself against her back, chattering about how good they were, how good she was, how smart Felix was for putting everything together. Felix sighs into her hair and Wendy shivers as his hand presses into her stomach, fingers brushing lower.

“I can find a way to tire you out,” he murmurs and Wendy rolls over to face him and catch his kiss.

~

There’s a shrill beeping somewhere to Wendy’s right side and she groans, pressing closer to Felix and pushing her face into his chest. If she ignores it and wishes hard enough, it’ll go away. Felix shifts and reaches over her, stopping the beeping and Wendy sighs happily, listening to him on the phone, voice still rough with sleep. She can feel his voice rumble in his chest and loves it, would stay here forever if she could.

“Henry wants to know why you’re not in English,” Felix says and Wendy freezes before looking up at him through her lashes.

“I’m on my way?”

Felix’s mouth is quirked into a smirk the entire time she gets ready, refraining from laughing at her to her face which she appreciates more than she does him trying to distract her from leaving. She smacks at his hand when it trails up her thigh, under the edge of her skirt and he smiles, a soft one he saves for her and she kisses him, pulling back before he can tug her back onto his bed and Wendy grabs her bag from its place half under the bed. She pats Felix’s knee before she walks to the doorway of the bedroom and gives him a smile before she leaves.

She walks quickly to school, not anywhere near a jog like she should be, but faster than a walk. She slips into history halfway through, giving the teacher a small smile as everyone turns to look at her. Henry meets her at her locker before lunch, grinning and Wendy pouts at him at he directs her to the cafeteria.

“You know you have a hickey on your collarbone, right?” He asks and Wendy squeaks, shaking her head and clapping a hand over the bone; Henry laughs and shakes her head. “Other side.”

Wendy sinks into her seat and tries to pull her shirt collar up to hide it, but it doesn’t work, shirt going crooked and she moans, leaning forward to rest her forehead on the table. Henry pats the back of her head, making sympathetic clucking noises.

“You could probably ask Becky or one of the other volleyball girls to borrow some make-up if you don’t have your’s?” Wendy turns her head to the side to look at him and he smiles at her, taking the plastic from his sandwich and handing her half; it’s sticky and limp, probably something Peter made, but Wendy’s hungry and it’ll do.

She slips her phone from her bag and sends Felix a message of _Why didn’t you tell me_ and he doesn’t send one back automatically which means he’s working and Wendy sighs and sits up, taking a bite of the sandwich half. Henry doesn’t look up from his phone that’s hidden under the table, sandwich forgotten in his hand and Wendy leans over, trying to see what he’s doing.

“I’ll show you in study hall.” He says, tucking his phone in his pocket and Wendy drops into her chair, kicking his shin lightly.

“Fine.”

Wendy sits through French and obediently takes notes over irregular verb conjugation, even flips to the homework page in her workbook while she stares at the clock until the bells rings and she darts from the room, nearly running into Tyler and making the boy scowl. Henry is already in the library when she drops her books on the table; the library glares at her, but she ignores him, looking at Henry with bright eyes and a smile.

“So what happened with Peter?” She asks and Henry raises an eyebrow, a trick Wendy knows he learned from Peter; it’s the older boy’s signature confused expression. “At lunch, with your phone. Peter, right?”

“No? I was looking at photos this girl took at your show last night. They’re really good.”

Henry takes his phone out and taps around for a moment before he pulls up photos and lets Wendy scroll through them. She has to admit they’re good; Peter looks amazing with his long legs and boots and lean torso, long fingers wrapped around the mic and eyes shining bright even after being captured by a camera. Wendy stops on a picture of herself and bites her lip; she doesn’t look near as bad as she thinks she does when she’s on stage. Her hair isn’t a frizzed mess, pretty blonde curls lit up red by the overhead lights with flower crown keeping them in place and bass guitar dwarfing her, skin almost glowing, but whether that’s an edit done by the photographer or just how she looks, Wendy couldn’t tell. She swallows hard and pushes the phone back into Henry’s hand and the boy grins.

“Good, isn’t she? I think she goes here. I was thinking we could ask her to do your next show too or something.” Henry says, tapping at his phone again and then showing it to Wendy.

He’s pulled up a Facebook profile of a girl with her dark hair braided and lying over her shoulder, her smile not reaching her eyes and Wendy squirms in her seat; the profile says her name is Tiger Lily Hewitt and Wendy recognizes her. They had gym together sophomore year; the girl didn’t say much, but had joined during the class song while they were running laps and had a wicked curve ball during softball.

Wendy had been absolutely fascinated with her. The girl had kept her up at night, visions swimming in her eyes and tanned skin sliding against her own, lips slick with strawberry-flavored lip gloss she saw Lily applying daily pressing kisses to her mouth and Wendy had come with her hand between her legs, three fingers inside herself and her face pressed into her pillow, muffling her moans. It went on like that for the entire trimester then classes had switched and Wendy had mourned the loss of the girl she never got the chance to talk to. Then she was swept up by the storm that was Peter Pan and the tall, blonde Felix with his foreboding silence and corkscrew curls had invaded her mind with soft words and quirked smiles and all thoughts of Lily had been erased as Felix drew her in and wrapped her in silk and honey.

Henry clears his throat and Wendy shakes her head, bites her lip and catches his eye; he grins as he’s apt to and Wendy swallows.

“Yeah, she’s great. You should talk to her,” She says, flipping open her French workbook and tapping her pen against the desk; Henry shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should instead. I’m the sheriff’s son, kind of intimidating not by choice.” He says and Wendy shrugs, biting the end of her pen; it’s a nasty habit, her mother always says, but she can’t quit any more than she can quit loving Felix or liking girls.

~

“It’s not like I’ve hidden it exactly, you know? It’s just.” Wendy cuts herself off with a frustrated growl and Becky laughs, laughter disjointed over the phone; Wendy’s been worrying over how to message Lily since school, all through doing her homework and dinner and her shower.

“Just tell her you liked her photos and that you wanna hang. You’re overthinking it.” There’s a snap across the line and Wendy glances at the phone for a moment, before shaking her head and tapping her fingers on the keyboard.

“I guess, but.”

“No buts, just do it.”

Wendy huffs out a sigh, but holds the phone between her shoulder and ear and writes out a message to Lily, rereading it and hovering her finger over the enter key.

“What if I’m awkward?” She asks and she can nearly hear Becky rolling her eyes; Wendy can see it clearly in her head though.

“Just send it. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Wendy sends it just as there’s a tap on her window and her stomach is warring between anxious and happiness as she unlocks the window; it sticks a bit sometimes and it takes some wriggling and pushing before it slides open with a squeak that has both her and Felix wincing. By the time she redirects her attention to her phone, Becky’s hung up and sent a message: _Go get her tiger. Enjoy your boyfriend_ with a winking face and Wendy’s face heats up. Felix rests hands on her hips and kisses her forehead before he drops on bed and pulls her with him, kicking off his shoes and arranging them until he’s sitting with his back against the headboard and Wendy against his chest.

“What’s got you worried?” Felix’s hands trails up her sides and massage her shoulders, kneading the muscles until they’re loose and Wendy’s head drops forward.

She makes a noise, unintelligible and decidedly not English and Felix drops his hands from her shoulders, trailing them up and down her back instead. There’s a moment and Wendy turns to face him, crossing her legs and her knees press into Felix’s inner thighs; he raises his eyebrow and folds his hands on his stomach. The butterflies start up in her stomach again and she swallows; she’s not even done anything _wrong_ , but Felix is just fixating her with this look that’s so patient and loving and she doesn’t want to hurt him. But it’s not like she’s done anything, she’s just been thinking about Lily for less than a day, not even 12 hours and she doesn’t want to follow through on her thoughts, right? They’re not even bad thoughts, really; she just wants to hang out with her this time, even though she remembers _everything_ she’d thought about the girl before and they make her throat tighten and it hard to swallow, hard to think properly and her stomach flutter. Felix clears his throat and Wendy looks up as he pulls her hands apart from where she’d been wringing them together; he keeps hold of them, lacing their fingers together and Wendy takes a breath. She did nothing wrong, just a passing fancy.

“Remember that girl from like two years ago who I kept thinking about and Peter and Henry just kept teasing me constantly because I couldn’t stop talking about her? She took photos at our show on Sunday and Henry made me message her about taking more and I know Peter set him up to this; this is his brand of evil and there’s no reason that Henry couldn’t do it himself and I just don’t want to fuck us up if I start liking her again because I love you, I do, but.” Wendy cuts herself off with a squeak, slapping a hand over her mouth and her cheeks heat up because that’s the first time she’s said that out loud to him and she’s not even fully thought about it herself, doesn’t know if it’s real, but she thinks it might be.

Felix is still looking at her and she wants to turn away, hide from him because this is Felix; Henry’s known him longer than she has and he still believes Felix can read minds sometimes, but she stays and rubs her thumb against his, biting her lower lip.

“We’ll worry about everything after you actually talk to her.” He says and that, that wasn’t the response Wendy was expecting and she purses her lips and wrinkles her nose; Felix chuckles softly and leans forward to press their foreheads together. “You know this is normal, right? We’ll figure it out as it happens.”

Wendy nudges their noses together and smiles, tilting her head and pressing a kiss to Felix’s lips; the boy presses back softly, hands moving to Wendy’s hips and drawing her into his lap carefully, gently and she giggles into his mouth when they roll over, Felix hovering over her with hooded, dark blue eyes and haloed by the ceiling light, blonde hair shadowed dark. He lets his weight drop to his forearms and Wendy tangles her fingers in his short hair, running through blonde and pink alike and making the boy turn his head into her touches and her stomach seizes, goes cold and tight as it hits her, how much she loves this sharp-edged silent boy with his near desperate loyalty and his habit of loving with his whole heart, with everything he has.

Felix dips down, mouths at her neck and bites at the divot between her collarbones and she gasps, head tilting back; Felix sits back and slips hands under her shirt, pushing it up slightly and looking at her, question in his eyes and Wendy sighs, shaking her head. Felix drops next to her on the bed and stretches his arms above his head, sliding one down to wrap around her shoulders and tug her close to his side.

“Sorry?” She asks, resting her head against his shoulder and he makes a noise, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize.”

~

“Felix was gone when I woke up this morning,” Wendy says to Henry as soon as he sits down at lunch and he pauses before opening his lunch.

“Doesn’t he normally leave before you wake up?” Henry doesn’t look up from his sandwich, carefully unwrapping it and Wendy lets her fork rest on the edge of her container as he puts her elbows on the table. “So you don’t get caught and stuff?”

“Yeah, but,” Wendy shrugs and Henry pats her hand with sticky fingers; she raises an eyebrow at him as she wipes her hand off.

“Peter is not equipped to make sandwiches. Why are you worried about Felix? He’s head over heels for you.”

She doesn’t want to ask about Peter’s sandwich making abilities, only traumatizing stories lay down that path, and her stomach is squirming over telling Henry about the return of her feelings for Lily, so she picks up her fork and takes a bite of her lunch, swallowing and making a small gagging noise after. She pushes the container away and Henry offers her half of his sandwich, but she shakes her head.

“Excuse me?”

Wendy and Henry turn at the voice, something sweet and soft, rough at the edges and the dark-haired girl gives a short wave at them, biting her bottom lip. Wendy’s breath catches in her chest and she exhales hard, a gust of air, and she didn’t expect this rush of feelings to hit her. She can feel Henry’s grin at her expense and she’s sitting here staring at Lily; the other girl’s cheeks are starting to color and she fidgets, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Hi. Did Wendy actually message you? Because your photos were really good, she wasn’t lying.” Henry says and Wendy rolls her eyes, propping her head up on her hand. “You can sit down?”

Lily slides into a chair, sitting on the very edge, and Wendy’s limbs are slightly cold and numb at the edges; Henry is chattering away, she can see his mouth moving, but all she can hear is buzzing. She was not ready for this and she underestimated her ability to cope with actually talk to Lily because she underestimated the strength that her crush would flood back. The buzzing fades until she can pick up parts of what Henry is talking about to Lily, something about practice tonight at Peter and Felix’s and how she’s welcome to come and she can’t stop the high-pitched squeak that bursts from her at Henry’s words. Both Henry and Lily look at her, Henry’s face full of manic glee and Lily with slight confusion and concern; Wendy giggles and waves them off, turning to grab her container of uneaten lunch and fleeing the table as fast as she can.

She tosses the salad in the bin and walks to her locker, taking her gym bag from it and making her way to the locker room; Becky’s sitting on the bench with a couple of the other volleyball players, stretching and laughing as they change. Wendy changes slowly and ties her hair up, waiting until the other girls leave and Becky’s alone before she makes any movement towards her; after four years, she thought she’d be more confident around the redhead, but she’s not and she nearly trips over the bench walking over to her.

“You know, they actually like you and would love to talk to you.” Wendy shrugs and Becky looks up from tying her shoes. “You look spooked. Something happen with Felix?”

“He left this morning and it just feels weird? He’s not answered his phone and,” Wendy’s wringing her hands again and her chest is tight, an awful feeling of dread creeping up her throat and she breaks out of it when Becky’s hands land on her shoulders.

“You know that Felix isn’t dependent on his phone like you are. Give him time and keep your head up, Darling.” Becky pats her shoulders and Wendy’s knees buckle; Becky’s right. Felix is fine, they’re fine, he was calm and collected last night and she gives Becky a smile she can feel shaking at the edges before the other girl disappears from the room.

Wendy works through the rest of lunch, stretching on the bar and warming up under the eyes of the teacher and she relishes in the moment of letting loose, of not thinking. She dances, leaps and pirouettes and her stomach loosens, as does her throat, her mind clears as she doesn’t think of Felix or Lily or the band, of anything of how to move her body to make it do what she wants.

It’s freeing. She feels as though there’s wind beneath her wings and she’s soaring, only herself to think about it.

The bell rings shrill and loud as she lands and she stumbles, throwing her hands out like she’s been warned against until she catches her balance; the rest of the class is against the wall and she stands up, shoulders back and fights the flush down, hiding her smile in her hand when a couple of the girls cheer. Miss Ruby, her red lips stretched in a smile and claps her hands, bringing the class to attention. It passes quickly and Wendy’s aching by the end, dragging her feet as she changes back and walks to French class; Madame Superior narrows her eyes at her as she takes her seat and flips through her textbook.

It drags, the clock’s ticking ringing in her ears as the Madame lectures about stuff she already knows, learned last year and she taps her pen against the desk, doodles in the margins of her notes until the bell rings and she can leave, walk to her locker quickly and exchange her books so she can focus during study period for once.

Henry’s at their normal table when she gets there, tucked away into the back corner and he’s glowing, smiling so she raises an eyebrow as she slips in next to him. Looks like no work is being done today and she sets her bag on the table, slipping her hand inside to grab her phone and rest it in her lap.

“Peter says he wrote a new song,” is Henry’s greeting and Wendy groans loud enough that the librarian slants a glare at her and she waves him an apology, sheepish.

“His songs are always really angry or really smitten; there’s no in between.” She whispers and Henry shrugs.

“I can’t help that. That’s Peter. Lily’s coming to practice tonight; I figured she should meet Peter.” Henry’s smile doesn’t waver and Wendy squints at him, trying to figure out if he’s being sincere or setting something up.

He doesn’t blink or twitch and Wendy sighs, defeated as her shoulders slump.

“Fine. Not like I can protest since you already decided for me.”

“That’s the spirit,” he says and takes out his math textbook, flipping to a page and starting to mark on it; she watches for a moment before she realizes he’s not doing whatever they’re learning in the class and is instead doing some formula he’s apparently created on his own and checks her phone, unlocking it with quick fingers.

Peter’s texted her, some odd combination of letters she doesn’t understand because Peter’s too clever for his own good, coming up with a texting language only he and Felix understand fully and she slides it back into her bag. Henry’s concentrating on his math, tongue between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed, squinting at the page as though if he stares hard enough the answers will appear, so Wendy pulls out her French, staring at the words as though they’re more than the blurs she’s seeing. She blinks and the blurs swim, forming into solid black and that’s better.

The bell rings as she finishes the last sentence of her story, an assignment that most would call busy work and something she used in order to create a story of a princess saving a prince and she shoves her workbook into her bag, waiting for Henry to scramble collecting his stuff before leaving the library. He trots next to her, easily dodging people even though he’s attached to his phone and Wendy elbows him gently in the side to keep him from walking past his locker.

“Sorry, distracted,” he murmurs, digging through his locker and exchanging his math book for the novel from English and shutting the locker with a clang that pierces through the clatter of the hallway. “Do you want a ride? Peter’s getting me. We can just go by your place and pick up your guitar and then hang at Peter’s until practice.”

“Have you been home in the past two days at all?” She asks and Henry pouts, shoves at her shoulder with his hand as they move towards her locker further down the hall.

“Of course I have. Just not very much,” He shrugs, leaning against the locker next to Wendy’s as she jerks her’s open. “The house is very tense right now with my mothers and I have decided to stay out of it; Peter’s completely delighted.”

“And this is why your lunch is limp sandwiches and water?” Henry laughs and she smiles as she switches out books, picking up her copy of _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ more gentle than Henry had his own and tucking it into her bag.

“Peter doesn’t keep many edible food items in his and Felix’s place; you know that.” The school has cleared out considerably as they walk outside and Wendy nods, fingers tight on the strap of her bag.

“Yeah, Peter eats everything that Felix buys.” The oldest boy doesn’t verbally complain about it, but everyone sees the looks he shoots Peter when he goes to the kitchen to find empty cabinets and a bare refrigerator.

Peter’s sitting in his car off school property, cigarette hanging from the window and his feet on the dash, crossed at the ankles; he spots them easily and waves, tossing the cigarette before they get there and nearly kicking open the passenger door. Henry wrinkles his nose as he lifts the seat forward and Wendy climbs in; Henry’s bag joins her soon after he slides the seat back and climbs in.

“You know it smells in here, right?” Henry asks as he’s buckling the seatbelt and Peter leans over, leaving a soft kiss on the arc of Henry’s cheekbone before he starts the car.

“I know, love.” He says and plays with the radio as he pulls onto the road; Henry smacks at his hand and takes over the radio controls and Peter catches Wendy’s eyes in the rearview mirror, rolling his own and pointing at Henry and she giggles. “Felix told me to tell you to not worry and he’d talk to you later.”

She nods and Henry settles on a radio station, something upbeat and poppy bleeding through the speakers that makes Peter moan overdramatically, but he taps his fingers against the steering wheel as he drives anyway, singing under his breath. Wendy can nearly see Henry mentally writing it down: made Peter sing along with music he claims to hate, Henry: 1, Peter: 0. She really doesn’t understand their relationship, but it works, the two boys slotting together like puzzle pieces, Henry’s soft sides smoothing out Peter’s rough edges and she sees their hands together on the gear shift as Peter parks behind her mother’s car.

It doesn’t take long to dart through the house and grab her guitar, kiss her mother on the cheek as she passes her on the way upstairs and stop to hug her before she leaves, say she’ll be at Felix’s until after practice; her mother stiffens and Wendy knows she doesn’t approve of Felix, but it’s at least more than her father does and she’s coming to terms with it, so Wendy appreciates it, hugs her extra tight before she leaves. Henry’s nearly over the console and in Peter’s lap, Peter’s hands inching up the back of Henry’s shirt and she clears her throat to get their attention; Henry jumps back with a squeak, tugging his shirt into the right position and climbing from the car.

“Can’t even be left alone for 5 minutes, I swear,” she mutters as she gets in and Peter grins, all sharp teeth and Henry flushes as he gets back in.

“Shut up,” he murmurs and Peter laughs as he backs out of the driveway.

“You tell her, Henry,” Peter says and yelps when Henry punches him in the bicep, nose wrinkling. “You can’t hit me, I’m driving!”

“Well, stop being an ass.”

“I can’t stop my personality.”

Wendy looks out the window, zoning their bickering into background noise and counts the trees, the birds until they get to the house; they bicker on their way inside the house, but Peter has a hand on Henry’s lower back as he leads him inside as though Henry hasn’t stayed here countless times before. Wendy follows at a slower pace and sets her guitar case on the floor next to the doorway, nearly tripping over Peter’s abandoned boots on her way to the living room where he’s left them strewn in the hallway. Felix is stretched out on the couch, arm behind his head and eyes closed and Wendy hesitates before setting her bag on the empty armchair and sitting next to him, shivering when his free arm wraps around her stomach and pulls her back into him. From further in the house, a door shuts and nearly suffocating quiet settles over the house until Wendy moves, twisting to lie next to Felix on her side, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

“You’re still worrying,” He says and she stifles giggles because of course that’s what he’s worried about: her.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” She says, softly, nearly a whisper and his arm tightens around her briefly before he goes boneless, melts into the couch.

“You’re not going to hurt me because I trust you to do the right thing for you and us. If you want to try something with her, I trust you.” He says and Wendy bites her lip; they’ve talked it before, Wendy’s wandering mind that leads to her looking at girls when they go out together and blushing at Felix’s smirk, Henry and Peter’s comments that get lewder by the moment.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” He says and Wendy relaxes, breath rushing from her that she didn’t notice she’d been holding. “You wanna get pizza before practice? Peter ate all the food again.”

Wendy makes a noise that Felix takes as agreement and he climbs off the couch, not jostling her enough to make her move and she watches as he leaves the room, pulling his phone from his pocket as he probably goes to ask if Peter wants anything. Wendy knows the answer is yes, Felix knows the answer is yes because Peter always wants food; Felix just likes to interrupt Peter and Henry because Peter likes to interrupt Wendy and Felix whenever he can. It’s a vicious cycle.

There’s a thump in the hall and Wendy hears Felix murmuring on the phone in the hall before he reappears, small smile gracing his face and Wendy pulls her legs up so he can fall on the couch, Wendy laying her legs in his lap when he’s comfortable. Sitting in silence with Felix is comfortable; his silence isn’t suffering or suffocating, doesn’t make her want to babble incessantly or reveal her fears, wring her hands until they’re pink and sore. It’s just comfortable, nice and Wendy dozes, Felix’s hands on her ankles and the TV chattering in the background, quiet in contrast to the thumps echoing from down the hall, the low bass of Peter’s music.

They eat with some sitcom on the TV and Peter and Henry emerge halfway through, Peter shirtless with his jeans unbuckled and low on his hips, delicate skin reddened around the barbells by Henry’s hands and Henry’s ducked behind him, fully dressed but disheveled, flushed and there’s a darkening bruise peeking out from his shirt collar. Felix pauses with his pizza halfway to his mouth and raises his eyebrow at Peter’s smirk.

“I don’t want to know,” Felix says and Wendy stifles her giggle into her hand as Peter’s face falls before he twitches his nose and sits in the  armchair, snagging Henry by the waist and pulling him down too; he steals a pizza box and pulls a piece out.

“So this girl that Wendy has a crush on is coming to practice tonight?” He asks and Wendy squeaks, flips him the bird and he laughs, Henry elbowing him in the side to make him stop, but he’s hiding a smile too, pressed into Peter’s shoulder.

“I don’t even know why I like you, Peter.” She says and he shrugs, stretching his arms above his head and slipping the one that’s not holding his food around Henry’s shoulders.

“Because I’m the best singer you’ve got, Darling.” He winks and Wendy scowls before smiling, biting her lip to stop it from becoming a grin; Peter grins delightedly when he sees it and Felix shakes his head.

“I don’t understand any of you sometimes,” He says, but Felix presses his fingertips into Wendy’s hip and she knows he’s okay, _they’re_ okay.

~

Practice is actually practice; Peter is focused on the music, on giving it his all and by the end, his back is shining with sweat and Wendy has more of it on her than she ever wanted. Felix takes her guitar from her, laying it gently in its case and moving it away from where Peter is rocking on his feet, excitement flooding off him in waves as he chatters to Henry about how good practice went. Wendy hears him say something about how Slightly has gotten better at his ability to keep rhythm and she forgets, sometimes, that this is what Peter studies when he bothers to go to university; this isn’t just a hobby or a rebellion for him, this is what he loves. Felix clears his throat and Wendy looks up at him instead of staring at the stars dotting Peter’s upper back and the boy points towards Lily, curled up in the corner of the couch with a smile and a nervous wave when Wendy catches her eye.

Wendy knows she’s blushing and it’s ridiculous, that this girl has such an effect on her and with Felix’s fingers on her lower back and a small push, she sits next to the dark-haired girl who’s thrown her into a frenzied train wreck of nerves. Lily’s hand is on her arm and the boys are still chattering, Henry joining in now and Wendy takes a breath, chest tight. She darts forward, just a brush of her lips against Lily’s before she’s pulling back, away from the other girl and there’s an apology on the edge of her tongue, she can already hear herself babbling, but Lily smiles, light flush on her on neck.

“I’ve kind of wanted you to do that for a while?” It comes out as a question and the buzzing in Wendy’s ears fades; the boys are still talking, but Wendy can feel someone’s eyes on her back and someone rests a hand on her shoulder; she jumps and Felix chuckles.

“Do you want to come to dinner with us?” Felix asks and he’s looking at Lily, completely relaxed, smiling with a quirk of his lips and Wendy’s heart is jackrabbiting in her throat.

“Um, yes? That’d be nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!!
> 
> This was written for [Lizbeth](bluetahitianmoon.tumblr.com) from her prompt, that I changed a bit. Hope you enjoy it, love!
> 
> Much thanks to everyone I whined to about this while writing it; there were a lot of you, oops. I really hope I did this justice; it's my biggest AU to date and my longest fic for all of my current fandoms and it was a monster for me.
> 
> The mix linked in the fic was made for my girlfriend for our year anniversary and she was gracious enough to let me use it for this fic because I found it very fitting for the fic and the relationship, as did she. :)
> 
> Any questions can be directed to the comments or my [Tumblr!](peterpanneverfails.tumblr.com) xoxo


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